


Ultrasound

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: The Monkees, The Monkees (TV)
Genre: Babies, F/M, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 05:49:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12125898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Can I request Peter/reader fluff where the reader is pregnant and tells Peter about it being twins?'Yes I can. Fun fact - ultrasounds started being a thing in the 1950s!





	Ultrasound

“Peter?”

You bite your lip, and your boyfriend looks up from where he’s lounging atop a pile of cushions like some god of hedonism and playing his banjo.

“Yes, dear?”

“I have something to show you.” You exhale, and he comes over to sit next to you. He looks gorgeous today – all tanned, bare chest and white faux-leather trousers. He looks like a rock god, not the pop star he’s supposed to be. He doesn’t look… real enough for this. What you’re about to tell him. But… the ultrasound image doesn’t lie, you suppose.

You hand him the envelope, and he looks at it in interest.

“What is this? A letter?”

“It’s… a surprise.”  _It sure bloody is_. “Open it, Peter, go on.”

He does so, unwinding the little thread tie that keeps it closed, and then slides out the two little square images inside – you bite your lip, and as he turns them over, his brown eyes light up, although his facial expression stays placid.

“Is this… is it… you?” he asks, and you nod slowly. “You’re pregnant?” You nod again, and then he reaches out and pulls you into a tangling hug. “Oh my god…” He presses kisses to your head, and you relax into his arms. Okay. That’s 50% of the task over. Now… for the next half. “This is our baby?” He looks at the pictures. “How far gone are you? It looks like a jellybean.”

“Two months,” you say, and he nods, still holding you close with one arm and holding the picture in the other. You smile a little at his masterly summation. “And…”

“It’s so funny. All you can see is its head. Which could be at either end…” he laughs, and you take a deep breath.

“Actually, this is the head.” You point at one part of the jellybean, and then at another. “And… so is that.” His brow furrows as he looks at the picture, and then at you for clarity. “Uh… their heads.” Still staring in lack of comprehension. “We’re having twins, Peter.”

There’s a moment of confused shock before he kisses you again, pulling you to your feet and spinning you around in his arms in delight.

“I gotta call David and tell him. Gotta call Mom too. I’m…” He kisses you again, and sighs adoringly. “I love you, (Y/N). You’ve made me so happy.” You release him so he may phone whoever he likes – you told your mother this morning, and so you can’t really stop him – and then sigh, smiling. He’s made you happy too.


End file.
